Half the reason I turned into a writer is you didn't have to show up anywhere. You could work naked.

It's not like I was an alkie or anything. Alcohol is for cleaning needles

There's no deodorant for desperation.

There was a weird intimacy, sitting in a car together. Couples sat in cars. Cops and their partners. Strangers became unstrange, sharing a windshield view of the world.

You can't really compare hells. But I suppose the hell of being strung out on another person's addictive behavior is its own special thing.

The second time I took acid, I watched myself in the mirror for nine hours. What I realized, when I stared, was that my face looked exactly the same when I cried as when I laughed. After awhile I couldn't tell which I was doing. Relief was just pain inside out.

This is what I think: If you had the nerve to live what you lived, you should have the nerve to write it.